


i think you lost this

by moonssan



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, arranged marriage but its only kinda about that, i dont think?, kinda? theyre not princes but theyre lords or something like that, loosely implied soulmates, open ending but its happy definitely, slightly suggestive but not too much, wrote this for the writiny secret santa thing but its not christmas its just winter, yeosang is there but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28377780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonssan/pseuds/moonssan
Summary: Wooyoung didn't want to be betrothed, but there wasn't much he could do to avoid it.San was a nice escape from his reality, a light in the night.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Kudos: 32





	i think you lost this

Winter was a lousy time for travel, Wooyoung knew. The frost could easily damage supplies, wagons got stuck in ruts and puddles and snowdrifts, and the cold in the upper kingdom had been known to leave horses frozen in their tracks. So why, he wondered, kicking at the snow-crusted rock in his path, had his parents scheduled  _ now  _ for the betrothal ball?

He knew, logically, that waiting longer did not mean he wasn’t engaged, did not mean he would not be wed by this time next year. In his head, however, the longer he could put off the ball announcing this fact – the longer he could put off meeting his _fiancé_ – the more likely it was he could convince his parents it was unnecessary. The fact that this marriage had been arranged since before he was out of the crib was completely unimportant.

Wooyoung knew nothing about his betrothed, not even their name. All he knew was that their family was wealthy down south, closer to the capital, and his parents wanted the political advantage that the marriage could bring. He had purposefully tuned out any talk of them, wanting to avoid the subject, but here it was. The Chois were arriving today, they had sent a letter ahead to inform the Jung family of their approach.

As soon as the messenger arrived, guards letting him into the breakfast hall, Wooyoung had shaken Yeosang’s hand off his forearm and fled, out the back door and to his room, quicker than his own guards could catch up. He swapped his slippers for thick leather boots and donned his cloak before rushing out the door.

That had been hours ago, and while his fingers had cramped with cold, he had no intention of returning to the castle until he must. Instead, Wooyoung redirected himself to the village, wandering the familiar path off the grounds until he reached the muddy, worn dirt road.

He knew that he could return to the castle in the early hours of the morning and only Yeosang would care to so much as bat an eye. Even though the Chois were arriving today, he was expected to stay out of sight until the betrothal ball the next evening. Neither him nor his future spouse were allowed to see each other until they were properly announced, etiquette said, and his family was insistent that Choi family was very proper.

_That’s going to be fun_ , he thought, knowing that most of their staff would describe him as many things _but_ proper, his wanderings and mannerisms more about enjoying some part of his life than the stateliness he was supposed to represent. Based on the rumours he’d heard, he wouldn’t be surprised if his family had enlisted him to a lifetime of loneliness in a gilded cage.

Wooyoung pushed open the door to the small inn, his favourite in the village. The bartender was kind, and willing to turn a blind eye on the truth of his bloodline, and the nights he crashed in an upstairs bedroom. It was the smallest pub in town, tucked onto a side street farthest from the main square, and therefore he was hard to find and unlikely to be bothered.

The walls inside were dark from years of candle usage, and as Wooyoung slid into his usual stool at the bar, he traced his fingertips along the familiar, well-worn grooves of the countertop. He nodded at the bartender, who he knew would eventually bring him a drink, and lay his forehead on the edge of the table.

The stool next to him squealed a little as it was dragged along the stone floor, but Wooyoung did little more than shift his eyes to the left, eyeing the heavy travelling boots of the man now sat next to him before writing him off as unimportant.

When Wooyoung heard – or maybe felt – the bartender put a tankard by his head, he finally looked up, murmuring a brief word of thanks before taking a long drink. It wasn’t until his neighbour cleared his throat awkwardly that Wooyoung bothered to look over, and he froze instantly.

The man sitting next to him had to be the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.

His hair was long and shaggy, the bottom curling up ever-so-slightly right above his shoulders, and the back a light ash colour compared to the brown of the rest. Faint freckles dusted the side of his neck, and his _eyes_. Wooyoung wondered how anyone got anything done around this man without falling into them. It was when his gaze shifted down to his pouted lips that he realized he was being spoken to, and he shook his head to clear it.

“Sorry, what?” He asked, grimacing a little at his obvious staring, but the stranger only smiled softly.

“I was just wondering if you were alright,” he said, the smile growing a little as Wooyoung felt his cheeks flush. “Most people don’t rest their head on old bar counters for enjoyment.”

Wooyoung quirked an eyebrow. “That’s bold,” he said, “as you don’t know me. Maybe this is my form of fun.”

“Can’t be having much of it then,” the man winked at him, “but luckily for you I have fun to spare.”

Wooyoung snorted, and the stranger’s smile grew more. He shoved his hand out for the man to shake. “I’m Wooyoung.”

The stranger’s hand felt warm in his. “San,” he introduced himself, holding on a little longer than necessary for a handshake. “Now, any advice for what someone new to town could do for an evening?”

_Thank god the innkeep likes me and won’t rat me out,_ Wooyoung thought as he fumbled with the door handle. He hadn’t had that much to drink, but it was rather hard to focus on fine motor skills, such as unlocking room doors, with San pressing harsh kisses along his jawline. As the door swung open, he stumbled a little, barely regaining his balance before he could end up on the floor in an embarrassing heap.

San left no room for mercy, resuming his kisses the moment Wooyoung was steady on his feet again. He gently pushed him backwards, until Wooyoung felt the back of his knees hit the firm mattress, and then he was horizontal, San supporting his own weight by the muscular arms on either side of Wooyoung’s head.

San pulled back for a moment, staring into Wooyoung’s eyes. “Is this okay?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper. Hesitant, almost. Wooyoung nodded, reaching his hand up to try to bring him back in again, and he felt the soft huff of San’s laugh across his collarbone as he gently sucked on the skin there. Wooyoung let out a quiet groan at the action. “God, Wooyoung, you’re incredible,” San whispered, kissing his way back up his neck to reclaim his lips.

And as Wooyoung tugged San’s shirt over his head, eyes hungrily sweeping the smooth planes of his chest, he allowed himself to forget why he’d left the castle in the first place.

***

Wooyoung hadn’t realized he’d dozed off until he blinked awake. He felt warm, warmer than expected for mid-winter, until he felt the fingertips tracing circles on his bare stomach, and the arms holding him close against San’s chest. He stiffened before letting his body relax again, but not quick enough to avoid San’s notice. The fingers stilled.

“Hey,” his soft voice was accompanied by a gentle kiss to the back of his shoulder. “You awake?”

Wooyoung yawned, letting out a gentle sigh before nodding his head slightly. “I am, I suppose.”

San pressed another kiss to his shoulder, before working his way up his neck again. “Hmm, I’m glad. I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”

Wooyoung’s eyes shot open. “Leave?”

He felt San’s breath on his neck, warm and comforting. “Yes, I really shouldn’t have stayed this long, in all honesty. I have… commitments I have to tend to, unfortunately.” He sounded almost wistful, but his words reminded Wooyoung of his own obligations.

He rolled over, pressing his forehead into San’s chest. He knew he’d never see him again, but the evening had been one of the best he could remember. The sex was good, but it was more than that – it was San’s gentle demeanor, his way of speaking, the way he held him close and kissed his temple and listened to him speak as if his words had value.

They finally rolled themselves out of the bed, sorting through the clothes they’d abandoned on the floor, stopping to kiss every few seconds. Wooyoung swore he’d never heard a prettier sound than San’s laugh as he pulled a rogue blanket thread from Wooyoung’s hair, wrapping the red string around his finger before growing somber.

“Wooyoung…” San turned before exiting the room. “I wish we could’ve stood a chance.”

He didn’t know how it was possible that this man, who he’d known for such a short amount of time, had worked his way into his heart so fast.

He knew he’d never see San again, but god, he wished he could.

***

Wooyoung hadn’t realized Yeosang was awake when he slipped into his room, but the door to his servant and closest friend’s adjacent room pushed open as he slid his shirt off, and he froze guiltily.

“You’re home,” his voice was as soft as the candle lighting the room, but not soft enough for Wooyoung to be off the hook for running off. “You worried me. I was afraid you wouldn’t come back.”

“Of course I’d come back, Yeo. I just needed to blow off some steam, you know how I feel about this.” Wooyoung shrugged his nightshirt on as Yeosang sighed.

“I know, Woo, of course I do. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t scare me. You can come to me, too, you know I’ll be there to support you with whatever I can. That includes tomorrow at the ball, and in the future however you need.”

Wooyoung sighed. “I know, and I’m grateful for you every day.”

“You better be, I have no idea where you’d be without me.”

Gold and red banners decorated the banquet hall; red for the Choi family, gold for the Jungs. Local officials and neighbouring lords and ladies spun as the small orchestra played, their elegant dress indicating the formality of the occasion.

Wooyoung would rather be anywhere else.

He hadn’t yet been introduced to his betrothed, hadn’t even gotten a glimpse of them yet. He tugged at the high collar, the fabric itchier than he was used to, and Yeosang batted at his hand from beside him.

“Stop that, you’ll mess it up!” He hissed, and Wooyoung glared at him weakly before lowering his hand.

The two strolled around the ball, pausing to listen to the music or watch the dancers, but waving off most would-be conversations.

It’s not until the clock struck ten that Wooyoung saw his parents approaching, and both him and Yeosang tensed. “It’s time,” his father told him, a smile on his face as he waved for them to follow him to the raised platform at the end of the room.

Wooyoung could feel his heart racing as the crowd around went quiet. “Friends, family, tonight we are here to celebrate the upcoming unity between our house and the house of Choi, the joining of both our sons and our futures. Please join me in wishing the best for these young men, their families, and their houses.”

With that, his father bowed and stepped off the stage, and another man took his place. Wooyoung kept his eyes on his feet, the crowd, anywhere but his betrothed, until he heard a gentle gasp.

“I… I think you may have lost this. I didn’t realize at the time, but of course it’s yours.” The familiar voice spoke softly enough that only Wooyoung would be able to hear, and he whipped his head around. His gaze travelled from the red string in the man's outstretched hand, up the slender form in front of him, pausing to take in the speckled neck and plush pink lips before his eyes met the deep chocolate ones in front of him. His breath hitched.

“San…”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!! i had like four different plans for this before settling on this idea and i may still end up writing one of them lmao
> 
> my first proper foray into fic writing!! 
> 
> my twt is @moonssan if anyone wants haha


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